Black Lagoon: Lucille
by Ricknarok
Summary: Roanapur has finally entered a period of peace. Throughout all the recent struggles of the past year or so, the dark City of Ashes has survived. Even the wrath of Lucille could not topple it. Now, the former S.A.S. soldier wants to find her place in the new world as she attempts to survive in a metropolis of rabid dogs... 'Standalone "City of Ashes" Spin-Off.'
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Dark Mirror

The streets were quiet these days. That was a welcome change from the primal bloodshed that plagued Roanapur just under three months ago. A period of peace was long overdue. The dark city's residents were glad that things were finally returning to normal. Roanapur had seen nothing but death, betrayal and bloodshed since the arrival of a certain shadowy assassin over a year ago now. Though he had no hostile intentions for the city himself, those that followed him did. The depraved leader of Wolf Pack, Sif, sought only revenge and death from the city she forced her way into. Kane, the underestimated commander of the Black Marchers, did his best to topple the very city, and came dangerously close, too. Finally, there had been Godswrath, the former S.A.S. task force. They were in another league entirely, their skill and prowess unmatched by even the fiercest criminals Roanapur had to offer. Their leader was lucky to be alive. Lucille gently traced the scar on her forehead. The bullet that almost killed her had been an angry, rage-filled attempt to snatch the life from her body. She counted her blessings every day that she was not dead along with her squad mates right now. It saddened her to think of them. They fought hard, loyal to a fault. They followed her to this city with the intentions of doing good, of crushing those who would continue living in the filth and helping those who struggled to survive. As it turned out, that was a more idyllic dream than Lucille ever considered. They had come close. The image of Roanapur's leaders on their knees in the city's outskirts was still fresh in Lucille's mind. She had them all at her mercy, her gun pressed against the forehead of the man she had hunted for ages. Were it not for his manipulatively charismatic words, she would have gunned down the three crime lords without a second thought and the city would be hers to mould as she saw fit. But none of that mattered now. There was no Godswrath, no potential to cleanse this city. That was all over. And Lucille did not even care anymore. That was what scared her most of all. Before she took that bullet to the head, she was hell bent on burning this city's degenerates and building something great. Now, she was content to live in the filth, just like those she hunted. It was a drastic change, one that did not sit that well with her yet. In time, she would learn to cope with the darkness, to accept it into her life. She was certainly more capable than some others who tried and failed to dip into their darker selves in order to make a difference. The breeze was cool today as it ran through her blood red hair, sweeping it back behind her ears. She had neglected to tie it into a ponytail as she so often did. The grassy plain she had been told to come to was not a place she recognised, nor was it near Roanapur. It was out of the way, further into the countryside than she would have liked. Had it not been the Wolf that had called her here, she would never have trusted the message that had been left for her. She strode up behind the assassin, wearing only her tank top, combat pants and boots. The ruins and wrecks of old vehicles littered the landscape here. Some destructive battle had taken place, it appeared. There was a mound of earth before the assassin, one that looked as though it hid the long dead remains of a human body. Lucille fell in beside Wolf.

"Not sure exactly why you chose this spot," she told him. In truth, she had asked to see him. When she learned that he was still in Roanapur, she wanted to speak with him. She had no friends in the city and Wolf was the closest thing to an acquaintance she could think of. It certainly beat laying around her apartment in her underwear drinking like she so often did these days. Despite insistence from the assassin that she find work, she had done no such thing since moving to the city.

"This is where I buried Sif," Wolf explained, gesturing to the mound of earth with one gloved hand. "What do you know about her? You mentioned her name to Rock at one point, if I remember." Lucille furrowed her brow as she attempted to recall anything she had heard about Wolf Pack's leader, which was little.

"Not as much as you're probably hoping," she admitted. "I heard she was dangerous. And that she was training people as assassins." Wolf nodded.

"Yes she was," he exhaled, his voice quite forlorn. "Sif was…well, she was a sort of mentor to me. She was training me as one of her 'prototypes', one of her soldiers that would one day intercept and commandeer the property of rival criminal organisations. The collateral damage would have been catastrophic, obviously. So I declined. After that, she had me hunted down."

"Is that why she came to Roanapur?"

"Yeah," the assassin muttered after a period of silence. His eyes were unfocused and drowsy. "I never thought about it after that. I hated her for what she did, you know? I killed her and that was…justice, I suppose. For me. But after a while, it started to get to me. I couldn't get her out of my head. She was a massive part of my life. She's the reason I'm standing here right now. So I came back here a couple of months after, where the bodies of her people still rotted. I cleared them out, dumped them in the river. And I buried her." Neither of them spoke for several minutes.

"Why?" Lucille asked, placing her hands on her hips and looking curiously at the assassin. "I understand what she meant to you back then…but she was far darker than you could have imagined. You killed Wolf Pack's leader, not the woman who saved you from the streets."

"I told myself that," he said softly. "But…she was always like that. Even when she took me in, she was still the same woman. She just lied about it better then. I needed to put her in the ground, to get this shite out of my head." Again, there was a tense silence. Lucille was glad of the talk, even if the subject matter was rather unsettling. "Maybe I'm just going mad."

"No, I get it," Lucille told him. "Like my soldiers, right? Sure, your feelings for her weren't as kind, but she still meant a lot to you before she turned on you. That's not a feeling you can just ignore or get rid of. It sticks with you. You needed closure for the time you worked with her." That put it in a more comprehensive perspective for the Wolf. He did not truly understand himself why he came back to where his mentor had died, to bury her as sadly as one would bury a family member. She was a disturbingly callous woman, one who made a lot of enemies and betrayed even more friends. But the impression she made, the mark she left on Wolf, was not something that would ever leave him. The least he could do was give her some form of burial and put it out of his head for a while.

"I heard from Chang," he began, his voice now hoarse. He cleared his throat. "I think he wants to see you." Lucille groaned.

"Christ, don't tell me this is all coming back to bite me in the arse already."

"I don't think so," Wolf assured her with a smile. "Balalaika still thinks you're dead. If he's asked for you, it's probably about a job. I know I'm like a broken fucking record, but…you should consider it. Might be good to get out of that stuffy apartment and fire a gun again." Lucille managed a weak laugh at that.

"Maybe," she agreed reluctantly. Her hand subconsciously went to her waist, where her holster should have been. Her gun was still in her apartment, naturally.

"Speaking of your apartment, how's Rock's old place treating ya?" After Lagoon Company's most recent member returned to the criminal group once Godswrath had been taken down, Lucille was quick to take his apartment, one she recognised from the day she kidnapped him.

"Quiet," she told him. "Too damn quiet."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Call

Chang showed up at Lucille's apartment late that night. She heard the sharp knock on the door, urging her to jump up out of her seat and scramble for her clothes. The empty bottles by her feet clinked together loudly, despite her best attempts to dress quietly. She hurried to the door and opened it firmly, shaking off the residual effects of the drink. Her blurry eyes quickly focused on the Triad's leader as he cocked his head and smiled at her. Two suited men stood behind him, their eyes covered by sunglasses and Glocks at their waists.

"This a bad time?" Chang asked amusedly, looking the dishevelled woman up and down. She cleared her throat.

"No, no," she mumbled. "Come on in." She retreated inside and fell back into her chair, her signature engraved handgun on the table beside her. Even now, she made sure to let Chang know she was armed and dangerous. He took a seat across from her, looking around him as he did so. He likely had no interest in the apartment. He was just being theatrical, showy, even. He was a strange man, one Lucille did not fully understand. She hoped he would get down to business soon. She did not care to waste time.

"This is hardly the life for one of Roanapur's biggest threats, now, is it?" he asked her pointedly. "Drinking yourself half to death, hiding away in a ruined apartment." His eyes went to the bullet holes in the walls from when Rock had been here.

"What exactly did you want?" Lucille asked him, wiping away the grit from her eyes. His smile faded then.

"Straight down to it, then. I've got a job, if that wasn't obvious enough already. I'm not sure what it is that you've been up to these last few months but my people haven't spotted you once. That's quite the feat, even for you. Unless you haven't left this apartment, of course." Lucille sat up straight in her chair. There was no guarantee she would accept this job but it couldn't hurt to get the details.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Well, we'll get to that. First thing's first; there's been a hit on one of my shipments. A ship of mine was commandeered last week. Entire crew were taken out, their bodies dumped in the sea. And my merchandise was stolen. The camera feed gave us enough information to go on, of course. Those responsible weren't smart enough to disable it. That or they want us to know who they are."

"Go on," Lucille told him, intrigued. Chang sat forward and produced a phone from inside his jacket, turning it to face the woman in front of him. On it, there was a picture of a man. Lucille did not recognise him, though he certainly looked all kinds of unpleasant. He wore a tank top, cargo pants and fingerless gloves. There was a silenced Beretta in one hand, a katana in the other.

"My sources tell me his name is Apollo." Lucille snickered.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, no records of a real name, apparently. He's a strange one. But he hit the shipment. I want you to go after him. I want you to kill him."

"Why me?" Lucille asked. She realistically had no interest in taking on any jobs. Chang sought her out specifically for this. There must have been some reason for that. "Lagoon Company would nearly be better suited for this."

"Well, I considered that, naturally. But they've been through enough shit for a lifetime. That, and I knew you weren't busy. Thought you might need something to do." He paused. "Hell, maybe I just like you. The point is I'll be paying you handsomely if you pull this off for me. I can give you a lead on him. After that, it's up to you. So…what do you say?" Lucille was hesitant. There was a part of her that just wanted to stay in her apartment for the foreseeable future, drinking her life away and ignoring the outside world. But another part of her wanted this, to finally get back into the rhythm of things. She was almost excited by the prospect of using a gun again. It couldn't hurt to look into this.

"Alright, Chang," she told him. "I'll see what I can do." A large smile crept across Chang's face. He waved his hand, prompting his two bodyguards to leave the apartment. He followed them to the door, then stopped.

"Balalaika still thinks you're dead," he said then. Lucille rose from her chair.

"I know," she told him. "I assumed you'd tell her. Why haven't you?" Chang shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't know," he admitted, producing a cigarette from his jacket and lighting it. "It started as a favour to Lagoon Company. And Wolf. They knew she'd want you dead. I suppose they didn't want to see that happen. But you've got more road ahead of you, Lucille. I want to see where you end up." With that, he left and shut the door. She didn't imagine Lagoon Company truly wanted her kept alive. She made them her enemies the second she set foot in the city. The assassin, though…she believed he suggested she be kept alive. He agreed with her at the end, about not wanting to see more unnecessary bloodshed. He was a strange one. During her time as a solider, all she had heard about the assassin was that he was cold-blooded and ruthless, a second Bloodhound in the making. And yet, he was shaping up to be quite humane. She would need to think on this. She reached for her handgun, plucking it up in her right hand and examining it. That engraving was still there, after all this time. _Who Dares Wins._ It made her sad to read it, to remember her fallen comrades. If she was going to pursue this Apollo, she needed something more substantial. She needed more firepower. Lucille may have been a recluse, but she knew Roanapur like the back of her hand at this stage. She donned her trench coat, her gloves and boots before setting off for the Rip-Off Church. The nuns there sold weapons, that much she knew. Whether they would sell to her was another matter. If they recognised her, it was unlikely she would leave without injury. She strode up to the doors just after midnight. There was light inside, at least. That was promising. Truthfully, she probably should have waited until morning. But she was here now. She could hear voices coming from inside. One of them was familiar. All too familiar. Of all the killers in Roanapur, it had to be her. Lucille gently pushed the door open, causing it to creak loudly. She stepped inside and her eyes immediately fell on the two women at the altar. One of them was a blonde woman in a nun's habit and pink glasses. She did not recognise her. Across the table, however, sat the violent gunslinger from Lagoon Company. Revy's eyes flashed as soon as she saw who had entered. Lucille let the door slam behind her, poising herself for the encounter to come.

"Mind if I interrupt?"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Stay in the Light

"You gotta be fucking kidding me," Revy grumbled, her sharp eyes piercing Lucille. The former soldier took a few steps forward. Her gun was holstered at her side. If this got out of hand, she would have no qualms about going for it. She and Revy had already tried to kill one another in the past.

"Who's your friend?" the blonde woman asked, snatching up a glass of rum and downing it. There were cards splayed out across the table between them. Lucille came to a halt before the altar.

"Shut it, Eda," Revy snapped. "Didn't think you'd still be dicking around here. What's wrong, your old soldier pals won't welcome you back with open arms?"

"Funny," Lucille muttered. "I'm here to see the nun, actually."

"'The nun' has a name," Eda told her sharply, though she wore a shit-eating grin on her face.

"Yes, I assumed so," Lucille spat back. "Eda, was it? Sorry to interrupt whatever this is but I'm in need of weapons. I'm told you can help me with that." Eda sat forward then, evidently more intrigued now. Neither of them clearly suspected she would be looking for guns any time soon. If anything, they were expecting a confrontation when she walked through the doors. Lucille was still considered by many to be a villainous entity, a threat to the safety of Roanapur's people. It would take a lot to dissuade those fears.

"So you can run around shooting the place up again?" Revy asked, venom dripping from her every word. The contempt she had for Lucille was higher than that she bore for Roberta.

"Ah, so this is Lucille, I take it," Eda surmised, standing up and placing her hands on her hips. As predictably as ever, it seemed the nun would refuse Lucille's request. She didn't expect much when she came here tonight. Still, it was frustrating to be refused so blatantly.

"Is that any way to treat a paying customer, Eda?" The voice was coarse and deep, though it was most certainly a woman's. Lucille turned around. The woman that strode up to her was no nun, despite the garb. An eyepatch covered her right eye and there was a customised golden Desert Eagle at her side, not unlike the Wolf's matte black weapon.

"And you are?" Lucille asked. The old woman smirked as she passed Lucille and took a seat at the altar, where Eda had been sitting moments before. The now disgruntled blonde scoffed, leaning against the wall opposite.

"Rebecca, let this woman take a seat, won't you?" Reluctantly, Revy rose and joined Eda by the wall. Lucille was apprehensive but she decided not to waste time. If this was a trap, she had no doubt she could annihilate the other three. "I am Sister Yolanda," the woman said. "You must be the infamous Lucille. Your reputation precedes you, dear."

"I'm flattered," Lucille said sarcastically. Yolanda smirked.

"So, what exactly is it you think we can offer you? I'll need specifics." The following few seconds were comical, as Lucille listed the equipment she sought and looked on as Revy and Eda's expressions became incredulous.

"I'll need a Heckler and Koch PSG1 sniper rifle to begin with. With accompanying ammunition, of course. Then…hmm, perhaps a Steyr AUG. Semi-automatic, if that's not too much trouble. After that…" She removed her holstered M1911 and placed it on the table. "…as much ammo for this as you can get your hands on." There was silence for a few moments.

"Is that all?" Eda joked. Sister Yolanda cleared her throat.

"Heavens, what could you want with all that firepower?"

"I've got a job," Lucille told them bluntly. There was no point in lying, she thought. If they didn't find out themselves eventually, they likely would once she left to go after Apollo. Revy raised an eyebrow.

"A job?" she asked. "From who?"

"Mister Chang," she said. "He came by earlier. Wants me to go after an enemy of his." It was an understatement to say that the expression Revy now wore was one of utter annoyance. It thoroughly pissed her off that the Triad's leader would go to Roanapur's former enemy for a job when Lagoon Company had been his trusted employees for years. She could not make sense of it in her head, why Lucille would be trusted with this.

"What the fuck is he thinking going to you for something like that?" Lucille lost her patience, then. She stood up and looked Revy straight in the eye.

"I don't know, Revy, why don't you go and fucking ask him?" Lagoon Company's more hot-headed member immediately went for her Cutlasses, prompting Eda to restrain her.

"Calm yourself, Rebecca," Yolanda commanded. "If not to spare my church the bloodshed, spare yourself the pain. I have no doubt our dear Lucille would relish in killing you." The Englishwoman smirked, her own weapon in her hand. None of them save for Yolanda even noticed she had taken it from the table. That was another example of her stealth, her imperceptible ferocity. Lucille holstered her gun.

"It's an M1911," she told the older nun. "The guns I mentioned and ammo for this. I'll be around." She turned to Revy, then. "Try not to miss me too much." With a sickening smile, she left them. That gave her more pleasure than she would have liked, to look on as Revy helplessly struggled, desperate to gun her down. That was not a characteristic she associated with herself normally. She was changing, as she suspected she would. Roanapur was taking its toll on her already. She was not like the others here, so callously merciless and ready to kill at a second's notice. But she could be, it seemed. Given enough time and reason to change, Lucille could shape up to be one of the city's most ferocious killers, a force to be reckoned with. She returned to her apartment and retired immediately, the day's events on her mind. This man, Apollo, was not someone she knew anything about, nor was she in a position anymore to find out more about him. She would have to make do with what little Chang had told her. The stranger's appearance was what struck Lucille the most. He held a katana in one hand, that was peculiar. It implied some level of training with the weapon. She had seen countless others in the past attempt to use simpler weapons without any instruction in their use. It always ended badly. It was possible he had ties to the Yakuza, though he was not Asian. No, he looked American, possibly. Or even European. His clothes, too, had been militant in appearance. Lucille was interested to meet this man, to just talk to him and find out what she could about him. She wanted to relax, to just converse with him about his reasoning behind the attack on Chang's shipment. Then she would put a bullet in his head.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Burn the Dark Away

The apartment block was massive, its penthouse barely visible from the ground. Ulysses lived there, that was almost common knowledge now. Lucille stood at the door to the bottom floor, like she so often had these last few months. _He wants to speak to you._ That's what the Wolf said when they met in the café. The now prominent crime lord wanted to clear the air. He would give her some semblance of closure, an attempt to make her feel better about what happened. She wasn't ready. Now, just like every other time she had come here, she just was not ready. In time, she would muster the courage to face the man she once bore an intense hatred for. She hunted him across the face of the Earth, determined to take his life or let him take hers. Now, she did not know what to feel. She no longer wanted to kill him, just like she no longer wanted to kill Chang or Balalaika. That was behind her, dead remnants of who she had been. None of that mattered anymore. She pulled up the hood of her black jumper and walked away. It was not the right time for the inevitable encounter she would have with Ulysses. The streets were bustling this morning, strange as it was. It looked like Roanapur was only just recovering now after everything it had been through. Considering much of the destruction that had taken place here had effectively destroyed or decommissioned large portions of the city, that was unsurprising. Lucille returned to her apartment, removed her jumper and went to the table in the far side of the room. Everything she had requested from the Rip-Off Church was there. The sniper rifle was what she wanted the most. If she caught Apollo on his own, unsuspecting, she would take him out from a distance. That would save her the trouble of getting close to him and putting herself in danger. It was a stupid idea to speak with him, she thought. He was just another number to her, another kill to add to the list. There was no need to talk to him. Lucille took the rifle in one hand and released the clip, taking it in her hand. The bullets were large and streamlined, just a little longer than a battery. She had used this weapon a lot in the past. That was the reason she asked for it. Again, that brought back memories of her career, and of her fallen companions. Those feelings of grief were becoming easier to suppress. The Steyr AUG sat just a few feet away. It, too, was a weapon Lucille was familiar with, a formidable, simplistic weapon that was outdated by today's standards. There were four or five crates of ammunition under the table for all the weapons she would be using, enough to keep her armed for a while. She left the rifle down and went to the bedroom. Her gear was laid out on the bed. The leather trench coat she was known for, a bullet hole in the arm from where Revy had hit her during their firefight in the warehouse. Her leather gloves, taken from a friend back home. And, of course, her beret. The S.A.S. insignia was still planted firmly on the front, that signature motto below it. As she donned each of these clothing items, she felt almost rejuvenated. It was refreshing to prepare for something like this job. She would finally get a chance to use her skills again. Wolf was right, there was no use wasting her life away in here, drinking until her liver gave out. No, she needed this. She needed to be let loose on an enemy, to be allowed to be as dangerous and unruly as she could be. It felt good just to think about getting back into action. She returned to the living room and reached for her M1911 when there was a knock on the door. As tempted as she was to ignore it and wait for the visitor to go away, she would not be so rude, especially not when it might well be Chang or the Triad's people with more information for her. She went to the door and opened it.

"Nice outfit." Lucille couldn't help but smirk. She stepped back to let Revy in. The gunslinger took a seat, apathetic about whether she would be offered one or not. "I see you got the guns you were after."

"Did you come here just to tell me that?" Revy grunted.

"Jeez, you're in one hell of a mood, Red," she grumbled. She was silent for a few seconds. "Just wanted to hear about this job you got." That was a lie, or at least not the whole truth. Lucille could tell that much already. But she would play along. She almost enjoyed her confrontational interactions with Revy.

"Is that so?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "You want the long or short version?"

"Cut to the fucking chase, Red," she snapped.

"Suffice it to say Chang wants me to go after a man named Apollo. He attacked one of the Triad's shipments recently. I'm to kill him."

"He hired you as an assassin?!" Revy asked, genuine surprise in her face.

"Surprised, I take it?" Lucille asked. She took a seat across from Revy. "Girl's gotta eat, right?" Revy scrunched up her nose as though she had just come into contact with an unpleasant smell.

"I don't get you," she began. "You show up at hell's gates a few months ago with the cavalry, ready to tear the city a new asshole. Now, what, you're just gonna roll over and let Chang rub your belly?" Despite what it may have seemed, Lucille was as surprised as Revy about this. She was not the same do-gooder soldier from across the globe who came to exact righteous justice on a festering city of crime. No, she had undergone a rapid and drastic transformation in the last three months.

"I wouldn't put it like that," she remarked. "But I see your point. I'm stuck here now, might as well get used to it. This is my life, whether I like it or not. I need to live. Only way I'm going to do that is by doing what I do best."

"Kill," Revy deduced. Lucille nodded. If she was truly starting down this path, hiring out her gun, killing for money, she was going to make quite the name for herself. Truly, it seemed unlikely that there were any in Roanapur who could take her on. Revy rose and went for the door.

"Well, shit, let me know how it goes. I wouldn't want to miss anything good. If this Apollo fucker comes near the city, let me know."

"Will do." She wouldn't, of course. She wanted to kill him herself. It was her job, her money. Revy would only complicate things. The gunslinger halted at the door.

"You seen Wolfy around?" That took Lucille by surprise. She frowned.

"A few days ago," she answered. "Why?" Revy did not answer. Her expression was oddly soft. Forlorn would have been an untrue description. Still, there was something in her face. Something dark and fearful.

"He's gone," she said. "Without a trace."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Dark Sun

"This is where we met," Lucille said as she came to a halt before Sif's grave. A chain of some sort, or perhaps a necklace, had been left upon the brown earth, a rectangular piece of steel at the end of it. Lucille did not recognise it at the time, but it was a piece of jewellery the Wolf had worn constantly since he arrived in the city. It had been left on the grave as a sign of respect, perhaps. A much darker possibility was that the assassin left it behind along with some of his demons, his internal struggles. No, they had more than likely followed him wherever he had gone. That was what had Revy so spooked.

"Fuck," she breathed. "What's that shithead up to?"

"Why do you care so much anyway?" Lucille asked. She did not believe the assassin was in any danger. He was capable of handling himself. Wherever he was, it was probably another job or something similar. Revy furrowed her brow. She did not look Lucille in the eye.

"It's just…weird," she claimed. "He's been in Roanapur for a year now, why would he just take off without a word?"

"You're worried he's in danger," Lucille suggested. Revy scoffed.

"Yeah right. Not likely. I've seen him in a fight. It's not like him, is all."

"Perhaps he went to Venezuela," Lucille said. "Didn't the Lovelaces offer him a place with them?"

"Yeah, they did," Revy chortled. "But he never went with them. He stayed here." It was strange to see Revy like this. It wasn't precisely the Wolf's departure that worried her, nor was it the possibility that he was in danger. No, what really spooked her was the fact that the assassin, who had done a fantastic job of acclimatising to life in Roanapur, who had made bonds with many of the city's residents, had suddenly taken off without a word, after deciding he would stay. At least for a time. It wasn't like him to act that way.

"It's almost heart-warming to see you fret over him," Lucille teased. That joke was met with stony silence.

"You want another bullet in the back of that skull of yours?!" Revy snarled. Lucille decided not to play up to her.

"Look, I know you want to track him down but I've got a job to do," she said blatantly. "I'm going to head back." She thought this was stupid. The assassin could well take care of himself. But she couldn't help but feel something wasn't right. "Let me know if you come up with anything." With that, she got back into her car and drove off towards the countryside. Apollo was close. Lucille would not let him slip through her fingers. According to Chang, he was spotted to the northeast of Roanapur. She couldn't let him get away. She was close to completing the job she had just started. If she succeeded in killing this man, she would be paid very well. That was all she wanted, realistically. If all it took to settle into life in the city and finally find her place in the world was to kill this man, then she would happily do it a thousand times. Her eyes became unfocused as she thought on her life, on who she had been. The shadows up ahead were ominous, reminding her of the path she was taking by going through with this. It would not be a seamless journey to the other side, but it would be easier than attempting to return home and hide out from her former colleagues. The shadow was getting closer now. It almost looked as though it were moving, its edges shimmering in the dim light of the cloudy sky. No, it _was_ moving. It looked to be a vehicle of some kind. A motorcycle, almost. Before Lucille's eyes could focus, the rider was in the air, his katana ripping through the metal of the car's roof. The blade missed her head by an inch. She immediately brought the car to a halt. The motorcycle had collided with the front of the car, pieces of it now strewn across the dusty road. Lucille grabbed her M1911 and exited the car, turning behind her to look at this man. Along with his usual ensemble, Apollo now wore a coarse navy combat jacket and a helmet, which he was quick to remove and drop to the ground. His eyes were small but prominent, never moving away from Lucille's face.

"Hell of a trick you just pulled off," she told him, cocking her gun. He smirked at her.

"That's not necessary," he told her, sheathing his katana. The scabbard on his back it now rested in was ornate. There was a gun at his side, too, though he did not reach for it. He took a few steps forward instead. "I assumed the Asian bastard would send someone after me for attacking his ship. Didn't think it'd be _you._ Christ above." His accent was English, like Lucille's, though his was far more cockney.

"How do you know me?" she asked him, relaxing her arm a bit. Apollo scratched the back of his shaven head as he walked out a few feet in front of her and surveyed the scene around him.

"Oh, I know more about you than any of those others in Roanapur," he claimed, turning now to face her. "Lucille, the jewel of the S.A.S. You were one hell of a legend, I'll tell you that."

"You were military, I take it."

"Well spotted," he congratulated her mockingly. The clouds began to disperse, now, the light of the sun giving an eerie hue to his dark skin. "It's amazing to watch someone fall so far, though. Props for that. You were a nut, let's face it. A nut with a code, I'll admit. You came here to wipe out the criminals you dedicated your life to stopping. And now…after a few months here…you're one of them. You've become the thing you hated so much. It's remarkable how desperation can turn someone into their dark mirror, you know? You should be dead, too, from what I hear. Took a bullet to the head, right?" Lucille swallowed as the man before her watched her every movement, laughing all the while. He was disturbingly jolly about this whole ordeal, revelling in her discomfort. "Yet here you are, back from the dead. As one of the worst criminals in this city. How does it feel? To be brought down to our level after years of being on your high horse?" She had enough of his talking, now. He was right here, vulnerable to attack. It would all be over in a second and Lucille could go on back and get paid. She whipped out her gun and took a shot. That should have been that. But things never went according to plan with Apollo. She would learn that lesson all too late. He was quicker than lightning, his katana in his hands instantly. Its blade was thin and fine, sharper than one would think possible. And it bit into the bullet with a cacophony of sparks and noise that startled Lucille, prompting her to shut her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, Apollo was unharmed and the two fragments of the bullet lay either side of him. The smile on his face was sickening. What was more, he launched himself at her and planted the blade into her abdomen. Had she not moved to the side in time, the katana would have killed her. She screamed out in pain, dropping the gun into the dirt below. Apollo knew just how dangerous she was. He had not intended to kill her, nor would he even try. She made a grab for him, hoping to get him in a chokehold. But again, he was insanely quick, ripping the blade from her side and taking off in the other direction. Once she reached for her gun, he had disappeared into the trees, her blood leaving an uncertain trail behind him.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: On the Scent

"Did you turn up anything?" Lucille asked as she gestured to Bao that she wanted a drink. Though many in Roanapur knew Lucille to see her, most did not. It may have been risky to frequent the Yellowflag so soon after her attempted coup of the city, but nobody had looked at her strangely yet. That was reassuring.

"Followed a trail to a camp out east," Revy told her, drinking her rum. "Place was a fucking graveyard when I got there. Our Wolfy Boy was there, alright."

"How many dead?"

"Twenty-eight," Revy answered, unfazed by this. "Terrorists, it looked like. They didn't stand a fucking chance." The assassin's absence was becoming stranger by the day. Lucille's mind was torn between his whereabouts and the mysterious Apollo. She decided not to follow him after he attacked her. Not only was she injured, but he fled into the woods. She could search for him for hours without finding him. Instead, she came back to her apartment and healed up. It was coincidence that she found Revy in the bar the next night.

"What's he doing?" Lucille asked, putting Apollo out of her head. It annoyed her when she thought of him, of how he had gotten away. The metallic sound of steel hitting steel when he cut that bullet in half still haunted her.

"Fuck if I know," Revy admitted. She was feigning disinterest, but Lucille could tell from her face that there was more to it than that. This bothered her more than she cared to admit to anyone. Bao left a rather unappealing pint of beer in front of Lucille, then. If he knew who she was, he may well have gone outside and taken a piss in a pint glass, passing it off as alcohol. Then again, if he knew who she was, he probably would have shot her by now. Rock came through the doors of the bar and took a seat beside Revy. "Hey, Rock."

"Revy," he greeted her, ordering a glass of rum. "Any luck?" He evidently hadn't noticed Lucille yet.

"Nothing," Revy told him. "Few dead bodies. Lost his trail after that." None of them said anything then, but Lucille pointedly glared at Rock, waiting for him to notice. He was in the middle of drinking his rum when she caught his eye. The drink went everywhere.

"Goddammit, Rock!" Bao roared. Rock immediately broke out into a fit of coughing. Once he had composed himself, he wiped the residual rum from his face and turned to face Lucille.

"Sorry, I didn't see you," he blubbered.

"I gathered that," she joked. "Nice shot, by the way. With the rum. Next time, maybe try and get the entire bar." Revy chuckled while the abashed Japanese man did his best to mop up the rum with the sleeve of his shirt.

"Is it smart for you to be out in public like this?" he asked once his sleeve was thoroughly drenched and stank of rum.

"Probably not," Lucille admitted. "But I haven't been bothered yet. So fuck it." She took a large sip of her beer before cringing in disgust and leaving it back down. As much as Lucille wanted to believe the assassin was perfectly fine, she had to admit his sudden departure was odd given the circumstances. Perhaps she could spare some of her time to help Revy track him down. "Have you checked Wolf's apartment?"

"Yeah. Nothing there except for a few empty bottles." Lucille rose from her stool.

"I'll head there and see what I can find," she told them.

"Trust me, Red, there ain't nothing there that's gonna tell you where he went."

"Just let me see if I can turn anything up," Lucille insisted, turning and leaving the bar. The apartment was within walking distance from the bar. That was convenient, seeing as how the assassin spent many nights there. When Lucille arrived, the door was unlocked. However, it had not been forced open. The assassin deliberately left it open. This was becoming stranger by the second. Lucille let herself in and took a quick look around. Like Revy said, there wasn't much, only empty bottles littering the floor. This apartment was nice, tidy and well-kept. Making her way into the bedroom, Lucille found the bed unmade and several empty rounds on the floor. It seemed odd that Wolf would have taken any shots in here. Perhaps he simply peppered the far wall with shots when he was bored. As predictably as ever, there was nothing here that pointed to Wolf's whereabouts. Lucille was getting worried, now. She was not particularly close to the assassin, but she had spent more time with him in the last three months than anyone else. A feeling that was half panic half worry spread over her at the intuition that told her something was dreadfully wrong. They needed to find him. Regardless, Apollo was still a problem. Granted, he posed no threat to the city or its inhabitants, which was a welcome change. But Chang still wanted him dead and left unhindered, he could continue to hit the Triad's shipments, seriously hurting their operations. Lucille would bring him down, that was a promise. She needed to, more for herself than anything else. Disappointed that there were no clues here, she turned and left the apartment. If they were going to find the assassin at all, they would need to be patient. They would also need help. As good as Lucille was at tracking people down, she could not trust solely in her own abilities for this. She sent for Chang and returned to her own home. The Triad's leader was along shortly. He had no guards with him this time. That was amusing, to think they had only been there before to protect him if Lucille was still intent on killing him.

"I trust you have news," he said to her, taking a seat and lighting a cigarette.

"Not exactly," she began. "I found Apollo. He got away but I believe I can track him down."

"That's not like you," Chang told her. She wasn't sure if that was an insult or not. "Did he hurt you?"

"I took a katana to the abs, so…I suppose. How urgent is it that I kill him?" Chang raised an eyebrow as though that had been the stupidest question he had ever heard.

"Not terribly," he admitted. "But I'd rather you take him out as soon as possible, Lucille. I can't have him hitting more of my shipments, you understand." He looked about ready to leave when she cleared her throat awkwardly.

"Does that man still work for you?" she asked. "What was his name…Fox?"

"He does," Chang answered with a confused expression. Rock had transferred Landis's private security to the Triad after Lucille's rampage had been put to a halt. She knew of Fox, of how resourceful and valuable he could be. "You looking for help on this job?"

"No," she answered bluntly. She was perfectly capable of hunting down Apollo herself. "It's a…personal matter I need assistance with. Have him meet me, if he's up to it." Chang smirked before taking a drag of his cigarette and blowing a stream of smoke towards the door he now held open with one hand.

"I'll run it by him."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Sly Fox

Mister Fox strutted up to Lucille's apartment, as brazen as ever, just as the sun was setting that evening. He still wore that suede jacket and fedora as he rapped on the door with his meaty knuckles. Lucille let him in.

"I hear you want to see me," he told her, his gaze suspicious even beneath those sunglasses. "Imagine the shock and awe of being asked to meet with someone who, not long ago, you had attempted to kill. I don't mind, though. It's actually quite refreshing." He did not sit.

"Eloquent, as always," Lucille half mocked him.

"So, what is it I can do for you? I don't imagine you have much use for me but I'm getting paid from Rocky Boy's money either way so fire away."

"It's Wolf," Lucille began. Fox's face gave no indication he had even heard what she said, though she was sure he was listening raptly. "I've been told he's gone missing. It's probably nothing, but…well-"

"You want me to track him down?" There was surprise in his voice, and a hint of amusement. "Surely you'd be better suited to that yourself."

"I'm a bit busy with the job your boss gave me," she reminded him. "Apollo, you know? Look, I know it's not what you normally do, but I imagine you're well connected. If you're not prepared to go out there yourself, at least come up with a lead I can follow." He seemed hesitant as he glanced around him nervously, peering over the edge of his sunglasses to examine the room. "As a favour. I understand we're not on the best of terms. But we are technically on the same side now. And like you said, you get paid either way. Rock hired you for the year, didn't he?"

"For ten months, actually," he corrected her, making no attempt to hide his joy at that. "Alright, Lucille. I'll see what I can find for you." She smiled in thanks, pleasantly surprised that he would actually do this. "I didn't expect you to fret over the man so much. He can't have made that good an impression on you. I certainly bear no love for him."

"No," Lucille conceded. "But he's a good man. Or as good as you can get in this city, you know? And he has people who give a shit whether he lives or dies. Again, a rarity in Roanapur." Fox chuckled heartily, producing a cigar from his pocket and planting it in his mouth delicately as he reached for his lighter.

"I dare say, we would have made fine friends at one time," he said. "Under different circumstances, of course. I can't imagine you would have taken too kindly to me back when you were doing Her Majesty's fine work. Anyhow, I must be off. I'll be in touch." He left as regally and gracefully as he arrived, the ends of his jacket swaying in the wind as he entered his black Mercedes. Once she was sure he was gone, she retreated to her room, reaching for her lockbox and opening it to reveal a black rose, now completely withered and falling apart. She hadn't been to her brother's grave in some time and she likely never would be again. The thought brought a faint tear to her eye, one she refused to allow escape her. She removed her combat pants and fell onto her bed. She had spent many nights here in a drunken stupor, doing her best to suppress or forget the memories of her old life. It was a feeble, desperate attempt to erase who she once was from her mind, to create a clean slate for the person she was becoming. But there was no getting rid of that. Whoever she became, her past would always be there. As she lay there, she found herself thinking again of Apollo. This exceptionally dangerous man was no common enemy, yet he most certainly had no chance of taking Lucille on in hand to hand combat. He knew that. That was why he had taken off before she had the chance to tackle him. He was an enemy she was eager to dispose of. This job was a way to occupy herself, to keep herself busy and return to the world after some time alone. But she could not wait for it to be over. Already, she was sick of this, pursuing some unknown aggressor who allegedly wanted nothing more than to cause chaos. If she was being honest with herself, she would freely admit that she would have preferred to go after Wolf and discover what had become of him. The assassin was always in the back of her mind. But she was not honest with herself. And so she would go on denying that fact, adamant that Apollo was her primary interest. She rose from her bed a few hours later. It was dark outside, darker than even she expected. It was very likely that she had rarely seen the city at this hour, being far too drunk most nights to possibly keep herself awake. The mirror she had put on the wall about a month ago caught her eye. Even in this light, she could see her reflection. She walked over to it and gently pulled up her tank top to reveal the nasty puncture wound that Apollo's katana had left on her body. The sliced flesh was particularly ugly looking. Lucille lost a lot of blood from that wound alone. The katana had been sharp, its blade doing more unseen damage than she would have thought. She traced the cut with two of her fingers. Even that slight motion sent mild pain through her abdomen. She left it alone then, going to the window to peer out across the city. It was oddly beautiful at night, its lights giving it a sense of community. This was Lucille's home now, despite her best efforts to avoid that. This was her life, her path. She was curious about the other criminals in the city, curious about whether the journey to the dark had been painful for them. Obviously Revy was not someone she could just ask, nor was Chang. But Rock, he had his own struggles with adjusting to life here. Perhaps Lucille would speak with him about it. If anyone could understand, he would.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: In My Sights

The boat moored at the docks was rather small. It was about the size of a small yacht, resembling a leisure family boat of some sort. There were little to no signs of use. That was because it was new, just purchased yesterday by a man fitting Apollo's description. The criminal hadn't been seen around the docks since then. But that didn't stop Lucille from peering through the scope of her sniper rifle and surveying the vehicle just in case. She wouldn't be stupid enough to just walk on board if he was there, making herself vulnerable to attack. Once she was content he was not around, she lowered her weapon and made her way towards the edge of the pier. Assuming he purchased the boat with the intention of using it, Lucille would hide inside and wait for him to return so she could finish him off. The inside of the boat was immaculately clean. Even so, there were rifle magazines scattered on the far table and Apollo's combat jacket was draped over the back of a chair. He had been here, alright. Lucille looked around for anything useful. There wasn't much. The ammo suited neither the sniper rifle nor the handgun she currently carried with her. There were crates of food in one corner of the room and stacks of water bottles beside them. Apollo certainly seemed like he was heading out to sea, possibly in an attempt to hide. He knew Chang hired Lucille to come after him. In fact, he knew a great many things he probably shouldn't have. He spoke about Lucille's exploits in the city when he attacked her out in the country, mentioning how much she had changed since three months ago. That required some knowledge of both her mission to topple Roanapur's crime syndicates and her own moral code. Either he had been in the city during that time, remaining undetected, or he was just exceptionally good at finding out things he shouldn't know. Seeing as how he was in the military, it was possible his area of expertise was information. The closer Lucille came to killing him, the more she wanted to keep him alive and pick his brain. He certainly knew more than he should have and it seemed like he might be willing to talk. Then again, he was clearly unpredictable and unstable. He might offer to speak before planting a knife in Lucile's back. She couldn't take that risk. She went for the wardrobe beside her instead, hopping inside and closing the door. She knew he would be along. Nobody would have the boat set up this way if they weren't going to be back for a while. Apollo would show up today. When he did, he was a dead man. Lucille readied her M1911. Sure enough, she heard footsteps an hour later, measured and gentle. They came to an uneasy stop once whoever it was entered the boat's interior. They knew there was someone there.

"What is that?" Apollo asked, almost to himself. "This stench I'm getting? It's the scent of a frightened little girl, isn't it?" Lucille furrowed her brow. She would have emerged from the wardrobe were it not for the sound of Apollo cocking his own gun. He would have her killed in seconds. "Little Red Riding Hood ventured too far into the woods, has she? Came out here thinking she'd find what she was looking for. Too bad, girlie. You're in over your head." The sound of a blade being unsheathed only reached Lucille's ears less than a second before it was coming through the door of the wardrobe, inches from her eyes. She made no sound, nor did she move. When Apollo made an attempt to remove the blade, she would strike. "Come out, come out, wherever you are…" The moment she saw a spec of light from the now opening door, Lucille exploded from the wardrobe and kicked the gun from Apollo's hand. The katana was next, easily removed from his grip with a quick slap. Then the onslaught commenced. Lucille was merciless, using the brute force of her fists to pummel the man before her. First, she sent three consecutive strikes into his stomach. That took him off guard enough for her to land a kick into his chest, sending him to the other side of the room. Her gun was raised only for a second before Apollo used what little energy he had left to kick it from her grasp. A round was loosed from its chamber, smashing the far window. Now was Apollo's chance. Lucille was dangerous enough without a weapon but he had to take his chances. He tackled her to the ground, slamming her head into the wardrobe door violently. She was lucky the edge of the blade did not bite into her skull. This man's attacks were brutal but they were also predictable. Lucille easily blocked half of them, sustaining only a single slight nick to her chin from one of his punches. She proceeded to grab one of his wrists, intercepting his attack, before wrapping her legs around his waist and throwing him into the adjacent wall. That seemed to stop his erratic attempts to kill her. She shakily came to her feet and kicked him once more, in the head this time.

"Nice try," she told him, breathing heavily now. He was cradling one arm while he spat blood at Lucille's boot. She responded to that with another kick to the head. That almost knocked him unconscious. His narrowed eyes held her gaze as a smirk crept across his face.

"I expected nothing less from you," he chuckled. "Damn, you really are as dangerous as I've heard." She was torn between gunning him down right now and prodding him for more information. Her sniper rifle was still sitting in the wardrobe and the M1911 was only a few feet from her. One of the sailors on the pier seemed to be approaching the boat.

"Ma'am, are you alright?" he called, coming closer now. Lucille watched him, her mouth beginning to open in response. She did not know what to say, but he did not need to see this.

"Tell him to go away," Apollo commanded. Lucille had not even noticed him snatch up her gun, its barrel now aimed firmly at her head. She sighed in exasperation.

"It's fine," she called to the sailor. "Everything's fine. Just…tripped on my bag." Though he did not look too convinced, the sailor nodded and turned away. Lucille's gaze went back to the grounded man. "What now?" she asked him. The smile that followed was sickening.

"We're going for a little cruise," he told her, coming to his feet and motioning to her to go further inside and steer the boat. "Out to sea. Hurry, now, we haven't got all day."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Old World Blues

The boat came to a stop at Apollo's command, not too far off the coast of Roanapur. The Buddha statue was about eight metres away from them. Lucille had been handcuffed to the steering wheel as she drove the boat out here. Once the man was satisfied they were alone, he released her. He still held her gun, trained on her every second. The sniper rifle, too, was slung around his shoulder and his own gun holstered again. He was not taking any chances. Though she could easily disarm him, he would likely reach for one of the other two guns at his disposal and gun her down if she tried such a thing.

"Meet me out on deck when you're ready," he told her, dropping the handcuffs to the ground. She was tempted to close the door to the inside and drive back to the city, swerving the boat around in an attempt to knock him overboard but, again, he would use the katana to cut his way inside and do away with her. No, she would allow her curiosity to get the best of her for now. She was almost pleased she would have an opportunity to talk with him, seeing as how he apparently would not kill her right now. Even when he impaled her with his sword, he made no attempt to do any further damage. Before, Lucille thought he was afraid of her, forcing him to back off. Now, she suspected he had deliberately left her alive for reasons unknown. She wanted to find out. Rising from her seat and apprehensively going for the door, she spotted Apollo leaning against the side of the boat, his eyes fixed on the still waters below. The sun was shining brightly, basking them both in yellow light. Lucille joined him, keeping him in her peripheral vision at all times should he try something.

"I knew Harry," he said suddenly, never taking his eyes from the ocean. Lucille immediately turned to face him.

"Pardon?"

"Your man," Apollo went on. "He was a member of Godswrath, right? He was a friend of mine back home. For a time. Good man. He talked about you." The memory of Harry made Lucille more angry than sad. He had made one last attempt to complete their mission, she had been told, one last attempt to blow Hotel Moscow to hell. And Balalaika killed him, or so Lucille assumed. He was dead regardless.

"What did he say about me?"

"Only good things, I promise." That roguish smile returned again as he finally faced her, looking her in the eye. "I always thought it was good for him, getting into the S.A.S. Not sure he was even technically allowed to tell me. But he didn't give a shit, apparently. That life was never for us, was it?"

"It was for me," Lucille claimed adamantly. "That _was_ my life. That was who I wanted to be."

"Until you came here. Funny how things work out, how drastically your life can change. Don't get me wrong, I'm not judging. I'm certainly in no condition to criticize."

"You can say that again," she told him, a smirk finding its way to her face. "But that could have been for you. You were in the military. A few more years and you might have joined us." Apollo scoffed.

"Maybe," he mused, looking back out to sea. "I never liked that life. Just the guns. Heh, yeah, the guns. And the trucks. This is who I am now, what I'm doing. Looks like you're right here with me, now."

"I'm not like you," she told him firmly. "Not…yet." He nodded understandingly.

"Yeah, that's the thing. But you'll get there. Soon enough. Look, you've got to do what you've got to do and so have I. I hit the Triad's shipment. Didn't know who I was fucking with clearly, but it's done now. No going back. I could just kill you right now." He laughed to himself. "But I won't. Hmm. No, not like this."

"Why not?" Lucille asked him. "I'm pretty sure if the roles were reversed you'd be dead by now."

"I have no doubt," he replied, false offense in his face. "But I won't do it. I ain't going to gun you down, no weapon, no defence. No, we will meet again at some point. Then, we can try and kill each other. One of us is going to come out on top and then that'll be that." Lucille had been so engrossed in what he was saying that she neglected to notice the second boat approaching. There was only one other man aboard, someone she assumed Apollo hired to transport him away from here.

"You're heading off?" He did not answer straight away.

"Not really," he told her. "I'll be around. Can't exactly fuck off back to England. No, I've been operating around Asia for a long time now. You'll find me, I have no doubt." The other man boarded and proceeded to gather up Apollo's food and supplies, loading it onto his own vessel.

"You ready to head?" the sailor called.

"Just about," Apollo answered him. "Well, I await our next encounter with baited breath, Red Riding Hood. Ta-ta." He hopped on board the other boat, then. It began to pull away when Lucille walked to the other side of the boat.

"I'd like the handgun back, at least," she called. Apollo looked down at the weapon in his hand, laughing softly once he noticed the engraving. That gun had been with Lucille for a long time. It had more value to her than most people would comprehend. It bothered her to see it in the hands of another. It did not seem likely that Apollo would give it back, seeing as how she could well just shoot him. But he did. He threw it to her, fully loaded and all, before cheekily blowing her a kiss and heading into the cabin of his own boat. The he was gone.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: In Sheep's Clothing

Fox pulled up outside the Yellowflag in the black Mercedes that he was so often chauffeured around in, though now he was sat firmly in the driver's seat, the window down. Lucille was leaning against the wall of the bar when he arrived, the Steyr hanging from her shoulder and her handgun back in its holster. She had donned her beret, now too. Despite her flowing hair, she looked basically the same as she had done when she first arrived here.

"Well, don't you look lovely," Fox mocked her. Considering his eccentrically stylish fashion sense, he was in no position to judge. "I take it you're ready to go?"

"Almost," she told him. "Just waiting on Revy. She's finishing her drink inside."

"Of course she is," Fox muttered. "I don't imagine she'll be too pleased when she sees me driving the car."

"Oh, she already knows. Can't say she was happy about it but as long as you have the information we're looking for, she'll play along. So what did you turn up exactly? You were vague on the phone."

"Nothing concrete," Fox told her. "Then again, nothing is. But this is as close as I've gotten to pinning down the Wolf. My people tell me he'll be in a village in the country in an hour or so."

"Why?"

"Well, all the adjoining villages and camps have been wiped out in the last few days," Fox went on. "And if my reports are correct, they all belong to the same group of maniacs. The Gold Legion, they call themselves. 'Legion' is a bit generous, considering they're a glorified terrorist cell with basically no advanced technology or weapons. They didn't stand a chance."

"Cheerful," Lucille joked. Revy emerged from the bar with both her guns drawn. She couldn't have made it more obvious if she tried that she was only going along with this because she had to. She did not exactly see eye-to-eye with Fox, given that he played a pivotal role in Rock's downfall not too long ago. She hopped into the back of the car without a word. Lucille joined Fox in the front. They took off immediately, wasting no time.

"So where ya taking us, Fox?" Revy asked as they neared the outskirts of the city.

"Ah, well, we'll be stopping off in a lovely little village out in the countryside. Beautiful place, I'm told. Supposed to be divine during the summer. Pity it's currently occupied by terrorists." Revy grunted.

"At least I'll get to shoot someone." Lucille took the Steyr in her hands and made sure it was ready for action. Her encounter with Apollo had left her both drained and stressed. She wanted nothing more than to take her agitation out on unsuspecting foes. If this place was as overrun as Fox claimed, they would have plenty of people to shoot at. Unless Wolf got there first. They were less than forty minutes on the road when the car came to a stop on a muddy backroad. The huts and shacks nearby were primitive in appearance, but there did not seem to be any sign of life. It was raining, now, too.

"Do try and hurry, ladies," Fox told them. "I'll keep the engine running." The two of them left the car and carefully started towards the centre of the village. The low-hanging grey clouds made it difficult to see clearly, but it was obvious something had happened here. The walls of the huts on either side of them were riddled with bullet holes and many of the tents had been torn to shreds. As they ventured further in, they could spot several bodies, broken and bloodied in the pasty mud that almost engulfed them.

"Fuck me," Revy exclaimed. "Pussies didn't know what hit them."

"What is he up to?" Lucille asked quietly. The clouds were beginning to dissipate now, making it easier for them to see. What was more, the body count rose considerably with their new field of vision. Before, there were probably seven or eight dead. Now, easily twenty bodies caught their eyes, scattered around the ruins of the town. They spotted figures up ahead now. They looked to be arguing. No, nothing so innocent. The man closest to them made a jerky movement before the other he had been talking to fell to his knees, a knife protruding from his throat. The one who had killed him did not turn, but they knew who it was. The Wolf was recognisable from his jacket. The knife, too, which was more like a sword, was the same one he had been using since he first arrived in Roanapur. He ripped it from the dying man's throat and sheathed it on his back once more. Revy and Lucille came to a stop, not sure how to proceed. They had found him, sure, but something was not right. They still did not know quite why he was out here, nor were they sure how he would react upon spotting them.

"Wolfy!" Revy called instinctively then. The assassin turned to them slowly, his eyes opening with realisation once he saw them. The top of his hair, which had always been longer than the rest, was no longer gelled upwards, now hanging over his forehead. His mouth and nose were also covered by a black breathing mask. It was the same one he had been wearing during his final confrontation with Sif, though Lucille did not know that. Lucille took a few steps forward.

"You look like you've been through the ringer," she told him with a smile she had no way of knowing if he reciprocated or not.

"What are you two doing here?" he asked, his voice made deeper and more abrasive by the filter of the mask. Revy was a few feet further back than Lucille, a strange expression of what might have been disgust on her face. She could not rip her eyes from the assassin. They all began looking around them erratically at the sound of feet thundering on the ground. There couldn't have been more than four men heading towards them. Wolf cracked his knuckles and started towards the source of the noise. "Oh, you girls are about to see something special." Before Lucille could get a shot in, the assassin had engaged the first of the men to appear. The unassuming terrorist was disarmed and killed with his own gun in seconds. The second man had his neck snapped by Wolf. The third was violently beaten against the wall of the adjacent hut, blood leaking from the gaping wound in the back of his head. Lucille raised her Steyr, ready to take down the fourth and final attacker, but she was too slow. Once Wolf had grabbed the man, she could not risk hitting him, despite how much she thought it might knock some sense into him. He threw the man to the ground before disarming him, proceeding to grab him by the jaw and plant his knee into his back. What followed was a sickening crunch as the terrorist's head was almost torn from his body. Wolf did not even acknowledge the bewildered expressions of the two women, instead taking his Desert Eagle in one hand and looking around him for any signs of trouble. There were none. The village had been effectively wiped out.

"What the _fuck_ was that?!" Revy asked, walking forward until she was between Lucille and the assassin. Wolf turned and frowned at her.

"What?!" he asked. "Why do you give a shit what I just did?"

"It's not just them, Wolf," Lucille told him. "The other villages? The camps? You're just taking hordes of these people out like it's nothing."

"So what?" he retorted. "They're junkies. Hopped up, racist, genocidal freaks who don't deserve to live. I'm doing them a fucking service by wiping them out. I'm doing _everyone_ a service." Revy grunted derisively before her expression became sour. She frowned at him, her eyes flashing wickedly for a moment.

"Do you realise how much you remind me of Kane right now?" she asked him. He almost recoiled at that comparison. But they had no time to argue. A truck pulled up at the far end of the village, several armed men in the back. Lucille cocked her rifle and took cover from them behind one of the ruined huts.

"You two get inside somewhere and sort this shit out," she ordered them. "I'll hold them off."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Back From The Edge

Revy shut the door behind her and shoved a drawer up against it so their attackers would not follow. Wolf fell against the far wall and slid down to the floor, clutching his side. Blood was pouring from the hole in his jacket where he had been shot. It did not seem like it hit anything important. Revy was almost annoyed at how lucky he had been. Any time she watched him get shot, he always came out perfectly fine afterwards. After a few moments, the shooting from outside got quieter. Lucille was doing a good job of holding them off, it seemed.

"One hell of a shitstorm you got us into here," Revy spat. "The fuck were you thinking coming out here?!"

"Hey, I didn't ask you to come after me," he answered, wincing at the pain of the bullet. It was still lodged in his side. If it wasn't removed, he might lose too much blood. Revy pulled back her mouth in a sort of growl.

"Fuck you, Wolfy! You just took off without a word to anyone, what'd ya expect me to do?" The assassin reached up and removed his breathing mask. There was blood at the corner of his mouth.

"Why do you give two shits?!" he asked. "I was doing fine out here by myself. Was nobody's business."

"Cut the shit," Revy told him, her voice cutting through the air like a knife. "The fuck were you doing out here? This ain't your style, killing groups of random psychos." He did not answer. He just sat there, breathing heavily and looking around him as though searching for an answer.

"Should have just left me out here."

"You'd be fucking dead if we did that," she told him.

"So what if I was? Why would it matter?!" Revy looked as though she was ready to kill him, that dead, emotionless face she only wore when she was really fit to slaughter. But neither of them moved or said anything. They just remained there, silent and angry at one another for reasons they could not explain. The gunfire from outside was still raging. They could have gone out and helped Lucille, but they didn't. Wolf was in too bad a state and Revy would not leave him for whatever reason. Fox, too, was still out there. If he did not help her, he would have a lot to answer for when they returned. _If_ they returned. Revy took a step closer to the downed assassin and holstered her Cutlasses.

"Is that what this fucking was?" she asked him. "You got a death wish? Or did you just want to look tough in front of these fucks?" He placed his hand on the table beside him and staggered to his feet.

"I just…fuck, I don't know." He turned away from her. "I needed to get away from all that shit. That city, the people…everything. Nothing for me back there."

"Didn't seem to bother ya up until now," Revy told him. "You're, uh…you're a fucking weird one, you know that?" She looked away and scratched the back of her neck awkwardly. She could hear him breathing, the wound in his side still distressing him.

"I didn't think you'd come after me," she heard him say softly. "Anyone, really, but…you especially." She grunted, turning to look at him again. He was looking at the ground, still holding his side. The side of his jacket and the glove on his right hand were both damp with blood.

"You and me both," she told him. They could hear commotion outside now, closer than before. The house they were in wasn't very secure. It was made of stone and was a bit away from the village, sure, but it had been abandoned a long time ago. Now, it was useless, likely a choice spot for teenagers or junkies to come and do as they pleased. The room they had gone into was at the very back of the house. Footsteps could be heard nearby. There were people in the house, now, looking for them. They would have to fight their way out, it seemed. These intruders had clearly left the village, no longer concerned with Lucille. "Can you still fight?"

"Just about," Wolf answered. He cocked his Desert Eagle. Revy smirked at him.

"Good." She shoved the drawer aside and kicked open the door. The four men outside were completely unsuspecting. She had them all dead in seconds. They heard voices from the east of the house, now. Wolf followed her outside. It would take them no time at all to reach the door where they would be free to return to Fox's car. From the sounds of footsteps and the screaming voices, there were three men left. Wolf took one of them out when the man exited cover to attempt a shot at Revy. Lagoon Company's gunslinger got the other two with one bullet, splattering both their brains across the far wall. That was the end of them. The two killers headed out and made their way back towards the village. It was raining heavily now. "I still don't know what the fuck you were doing out here," Revy huffed as they ran. "But I don't give a shit anymore. You coming back to Roanapur or are ya staying out here to play soldier with these fuckers?" Despite his discomfort, the assassin managed a laugh.

"Well…like I said, there's nothing for me there," he claimed. "But there isn't exactly a whole lot for me out here either. Who knows? I might as well come back."

"'Atta boy," Revy told him. "Now duck." He immediately dropped to the ground as shots from up ahead tore through the air where he had been standing. Revy took out the shooter and continued on to the village. Wolf unsteadily clambered to his feet once again and followed her, gunning down one of these terrorists who had been crawling through the mud in an attempt to get away, his entire abdomen riddled with bullets. Once they entered the village, there were bodies everywhere, far more than before. Lucille was in the centre of the village, though her gun was not in her hand. No, it lay in the mud, several feet from the katana-wielding man who now swung his blade viciously at her.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: A Fallen Paragon

She was almost out of ammo now. The entire village was a massacre, the twisted bodies of these men littering the scene.

"We can't stick around here forever," Fox told her, only his own handgun at his disposal. "How about you call the other two and we get out of here before this goes south?"

"It's already gone south," Lucille told him. She proceeded to gun down the remaining few that hadn't fled the scene. Naturally, a jeep arrived with more of them. It seemed 'Legion' was a fitting name after all. They certainly had numbers. "Get back to the car, Fox. You're not cut out for this."

"I'm hurt," he joked. His eyes went to the six men that approached, AK-47s in hand. "But you may be right. Don't die on me, dear." With that, he returned to the Mercedes. Lucille was fine on her own. The Steyr had officially run out of ammo. She tossed it aside and took the M1911 in her hand. These men had no idea what she had in store. She glanced down at the now stained silver of the gun, the engraving catching her eye. _Who Dares Wins._ It was a nice sentiment, a motto she lived by. And a reminder of her old friends who now lay in ashes on the hilltop she had taken them to. The first man hurried around the corner, eager to kill Lucile, only for her to grab the rifle and push it forward, smacking him in the face. She shot him then. The next two went down in a flurry of gunshots that left them mangled in pools of their own blood. Lucille holstered her gun again. She did not need it. No, she did not want to use it. These men had chosen an unfortunate time to trifle with her. She was in no mood to be tested today. Her mind was troubled, her soul tainted by the life she was now leading. She rushed out from behind cover and kicked the first aggressor she saw to the ground. Next, she caught the second by the neck and twisted, quick and painful. The snap that followed was sickening and it made the man's comrades recoil. They both fired futilely in an attempt to kill Lucille, but she was too quick for them. Their bullets instead riddled the torso of the man she had downed earlier. As they realised what they had done, she came up behind them, again snapping the neck of one and slowly strangling the other. As she fell to the ground, his head in her death-grip, she could feel the life leaving his body. His struggle was weak and panicked. He was doomed from the beginning. It only took a few minutes before he gave out and his entire body went limp.

"Quite the display," a familiar voice came. Lucille immediately rose and turned to see Apollo standing there. A rental car was close behind him. For a second, Lucille jumped to the conclusion that he was working with this Golden Legion.

"Did you follow me here?"

"Hah! No, I'm just that fucking unlucky," he joked. He pointed to the car. "Chang's shipment. These boys were paying well enough for it. But fuck me, looks like I'm not getting paid now, am I?" He looked around him with genuine wonder and surprise in his eyes. "These fuckers were just too damn weak to defend themselves against you, it seems."

"Wasn't all me, actually," Lucille told him. "So…what happens now?" Apollo shrugged, holstering the handgun he had been holding.

"Well, here we are, facing one another again. I did say we'd meet again. Didn't think it'd be so soon, but I can't really run away now." Lucille smiled at him.

"No," she told him. "You can't." He nodded, that signature grin fading as he unsheathed that katana and went for her. And so they began. The first few minutes consisted of Lucille dodging this man's angry attacks, the blade coming close to her a few times. She could not get close to him, he was too well trained with the blade to let that happen. Revy and Wolf approached shortly. Though it seemed likely they would interfere, they were apparently happy to watch. Lucille was pleased about that. She was determined to do this herself. Apollo was getting tired. That was good. It would make him easier to take down as well as making it more plausible that he would make a mistake. He raised both arms, the katana ready to come down and cleave her skull in half, when she sent a swift kick into his stomach. That took him aback, causing him to cough. It was the window she needed. With his weapon lowered, she caught the side of his head with a right hook, then used the heel of her left boot to disarm him. Next was another hook, from the left this time. Eventually, the fight devolved into a helpless Apollo trying and failing to block the brutal attacks that were being sent his way. Lucille stopped when blood began streaming down his face and he was coughing viciously. Her teeth were gritted. She was exceptionally angry, more so from the fight. And she needed a release. She kicked him through the doors of the hut behind him. His weakened, tiresome body collapsed immediately. It was all he could do to hold his own head up and look at her. He smirked again. His breathing was heavy and strained, his voice hoarse. Lucille readied her gun and stood in the doorway.

"Well done, girlie," he told her. Pain was visible on his face. It hurt just to talk to her. "I didn't expect to come out on top there, I'll admit. But I wasn't dying like no pussy either. Go on, then. You earned it. Blow my brains out." He was a strange yet respectful man, one who had no fear in the face of death. He was content to die at the hands of the superior Lucille as she pointed her gun at his head. But that wasn't enough for her. She could feel that unsettling sensation in her head, that sickly feeling in her stomach. This was it. She was on the edge of darkness, ready to take the plunge. She moved her gun a few inches to the left and fired. The bullet ripped through the steel of the gasoline canister a few feet away. The resulting explosion was minor, yet its flames were disastrous enough to engulf Apollo. His screams of utter pain as the fire seared his flesh were haunting. Lucille did not flinch. She just watched him die, took it in as he burned in front of her. Then she turned away and walked from the village, darkness in her eyes.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: From Here

"Place looks different," Wolf said as he slowly walked through the door of his apartment. That was not true. It looked basically the same as it had when he left. During that time, his mind was muddled and broken. He would never admit it to anyone, but he had cracked. For the first time in ages, his mind and soul had given out. He couldn't cope anymore. The massacre out in the country had been his way of coping, he supposed. It was not the best method he could have employed but it was the only one he thought of. He removed his weapons and left them on the table beside his armchair. There were still bottles scattered around the living room.

"Looks the same to me," Revy told him. She had only been here once before but even since then the assassin's home had barely changed. It was night now, their journey back to Roanapur being considerably longer than the trip out. Fox had taken Lucille back to her own home. She hadn't said a word since she killed Apollo. None of them had, in fact. The drive back was painfully tense. Wolf unzipped his jacket and left it down on the ground with his gloves. The aviator jacket had been through a lot. He could still see the three bullet holes from Kane's gun, the tear from his machete. There were other nicks and cuts from past encounters, some the Wolf did not even remember. He fell into his chair and sighed, the events of the last few days weighing on him now more than ever. "You were almost a corpse back there." He grunted.

"I came close, alright," he agreed, his voice hoarse and more like a croak than anything else. "I came close." They were silent for a time. The door was still slightly ajar, a cool draft coming in over them. Revy shut it. She was probably having almost as hard a time as Wolf sorting through her thoughts. It had been a strange week. Not only had Lucille essentially acclimatised into life in Roanapur exceedingly well, but the assassin had gone on a rampage the likes of which he never had before. He was not that sort of person, to take out his frustration through slaughter. Revy was. She had done that before. The memory of gunning down a ship full of neo-Nazis was fresh on her mind, born anew after seeing the dead Golden Legion. The assassin would not be the same after this. He would return in time, back to the same humorous, charismatic individual they had come to know well. But it would be a while. These events, whatever it had been that plagued his mind and caused him to snap, had taken their toll on him. "Did you mean that?" he asked suddenly. Revy frowned and took a few steps forward, coming up behind his chair.

"What do you mean?"

"What you said," Wolf went on. "You know…did I remind you of Kane?" That question was left hanging for a moment, bringing with it an air of tension neither of them were comfortable with. Wolf knew she was not the best person to be having this conversation with. She was a distant, stoic woman who did not tolerate vulnerability. At best, she would either make fun of him or refuse to answer.

"Yeah," she told him quietly, much to his surprise. He expected as much. Looking back on his actions, he certainly must have resembled the maniacal mercenary leader who sought to topple the city. It pained him more than he let on to think of himself like that. "For a second, there." He sniggered. "Don't go too mad in here." He heard the door open for a second. The sound of the streets below reached his ears, the cars whizzing by, the distant screams on fighting troublemakers, the howl of a stray dog. Those sounds lingered, as did Revy. Her boots fell hard on the ground behind him before one gloved hand fell on his right shoulder. "Don't fucking do that ever again," she told him. He placed his own hand on hers for a second. He could almost feel his shame flooding over him. He did not want to let her go. He could not face being alone now. And then she was gone.

Lucille shifted in her seat. It was dark in here. The only light came from the streetlights outside. Ulysses turned his chair to face her.

"You look tired," he told her. There was a smile on his face, a smile of pity and sadness for what he inevitably knew had happened to Lucille. He was always a connoisseur of information. He probably knew what had happened in the village before they even arrived back in the city. "I'm glad you finally came to speak with me." Lucille squirmed in her seat, not sure exactly why she had come. She knew he wanted to see her after everything that had transpired. Nothing would come of this meeting, save for Ulysses getting what he wanted. Whatever closure Lucille may have gotten from speaking with him a while ago, she would find no such thing here now. "Lucille, I-"

"Don't," she told him, closing her eyes. "It's…just don't. You don't have any explaining to do. Some things are better left unsaid." He nodded at her.

"Just know I am glad you survived," he said. "Three months ago, I mean. That shot to the head. We're a rare breed, you and I. Relics of battles and trials that should have long ago torn our souls out. We were on opposite sides then. Destined to kill each other. It pleases me that you have found your place in our world." She thought on that with a smile for a moment before rising and looking him dead in the eye.

"Your world is an ugly thing. If I found my place in it, so be it. But I've no interest in pleasing you or anyone else." She turned from him then, leaving him with that to ponder. She was done with whatever moral or mental obligations she had to herself that forced her onwards in this or that direction. She was what she was now, a member of Roanapur's criminals and so much more at the same time. She returned to her apartment, the lights off. She would wallow in the darkness, reflecting on her own inner demons. They hadn't been there before. Even as ruthless and aggressive as she had been during her mission to cleanse the city, she was always pure in her thoughts and intentions. No, these demons were a newly spawned evil that had taken hold of her. It was tragic to witness her downfall. In the end, Apollo had been right. A once respectable soldier, a woman who wanted nothing more than to help people, to make a difference. But she was fallen now, a pathetic shadow of who she had once been. She was an assassin, a gun for hire, at the mercy of the highest bidder. And she was fine with that. Lucille was reborn anew, ready to kill or be killed.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14: What Big Teeth You Have

Lucille was getting sick of this café. She had seen it so often during her time here that she had the layout memorised. Her seat, too, was hard and uncomfortable. But she put up with it. She had nothing better to do today and she was eager to talk, despite how she left things a few days ago. The cool air blew through her hair gracefully. It was swept back behind her ears, falling down to her shoulders. That was how she wore it now. It was not a drastic change in appearance, but one that had only taken effect after she settled into life in the city. The Wolf walked up a few minutes later. He wore only his white shirt, open at the collar, his denims and boots. The top of his own hair was gelled up again. He looked good, considering, though it was possible he just wanted to give the illusion that he was doing alright. They all knew he wasn't. Even Lagoon Company, who had no prior knowledge of his strife, had been told, presumably by Revy. It was a surprise to them, to hear the almost invincible assassin had gone down a path so dark it almost consumed him. He took a seat across from Lucille, who offered a friendly smile by way of greeting.

"You look well," she told him.

"You mean after everything?" he asked. She tried to be evasive about it, fearing she would hurt his feelings.

"Well, no, not exactly." He raised his eyebrows. "Alright, I'm not a good liar, then."

"I'm fine." Neither was he, apparently. That couldn't have been further from the truth. He looked distracted, glancing around him lackadaisically.

"Hey," Lucille spoke softly, grabbing his attention once more. "I know you'd never say it in front of Revy or the others, but you can tell me if you're hurting." His expression relaxed a bit more, though he did not seem any more prepared to share with her. "I'll tell you right now I feel like shit."

"It's fine, you don't have to ask me just to be nice."

"I'm not," she assured him. "We were both out there, we saw what the worst of each of us had to offer. No hiding it from one another, is there?" He nodded, still silent and unwilling to share. This was a strange state he was in, an almost refreshing but troubling paradox. Before, he had always been the one to give advice and comfort others. There were more times than he could count when he had spoken to Rock and Revy about their own demons in an attempt to help them feel better. Now, though, it was him who was in that position, vulnerable and unable to deal with his own state of being. He needed the comfort and the guidance he was usually so generous with. Lucille was no expert in that area, but she was happy to do what she could.

"Well…," he began slowly, clearly uncomfortable opening up, "…I dunno, I'm not…okay, I suppose? God, you make this hard, you know that? Obviously, I'm not okay. That was a dark few days I had. Darker than most. Reminded me of the first time I killed, actually. I spent a lot of nights with the barrel of my gun against the side of my head. Pulled the trigger once." Lucille frowned more out of concern than judgement. "Forgot to load it, thankfully. I was too jittery and panicked." He laughed to himself. "But I'll be okay, you know? I just have to get back to that place I was in when I came here. I didn't give a shit. Nothing bothered me about this life. That wasn't a way of coping, it sort of…eliminated a need to cope altogether. Let's hope I get back there."

"You will," Lucille told him, clutching her cup of tea tightly, its warmth spreading through her pale hands. "You're a hard man to figure out, but you're no quitter. Even if it takes a year, you'll get back to normal. You'll be out killing again in no time." It was intended as a joke, but Wolf did not laugh as much as he normally would have. There was doubt in his eyes still, and worry.

"What about you, then?" he asked. "That was…well, it was a pretty brutal fight with that lad in the village." Lucille sipped her tea, possibly in some ill-conceived attempt to postpone the conversation she was about to have. She set down her cup and looked around the area.

"It was, huh?"

"Fucking-A, it was," the assassin exclaimed.

"Just…doing what I had to do." Wolf didn't look so convinced. "I've been here for months now. Never felt like a part of the city until now. That was…unnecessary, I know. I can still hear Apollo screaming in pain. But it was some attempt to make the journey easier. I've always killed people, it was my job. But it's different now. I don't kill in combat, gunning down terrorists or fanatics to try and stop them doing another 9/11. Now it's just killing for the sake of it. You kill to get paid or to keep yourself safe. The way I killed Apollo…that was to give me a taste of what it's going to be like if I stay here, if I live like this." Wolf nodded. He understood that better than most. Rewind a few years and he was nothing like the man that sat at the café right now. It took Sif and her relentless training to turn him into what he was now. "When Revy kills, she does it with a fucking smile on her face. I don't know how she does it."

"She's a special kind of monster," he said. It was nice to relax. After the week they had had, they desperately needed this talk, this period of time to just sit in the breeze and calm down. Their nerves were shot from the last few days. They could not deal with any more stress. They wanted nothing more than to live in peace for a while. When the time came, they would get back to work. But for now, they were both broken. They needed to be put back together, perhaps by one another.

"He kept calling me Red Riding Hood," Lucille said then, making no attempt to hide how absurd she thought that was. Wolf snickered.

"Not a bad name," he said, pointing to her hair. Indeed, it almost gave the impression she was wearing a hood now that she no longer wore it in a ponytail. Her hand almost involuntarily fell on his as she left it down from her face.

"Little Red and the Big Bad Wolf," she mused. "Quite the mismatched pair."

"I don't bite," he told her, a roguish smile appearing on his face, more reminiscent of the old Wolf who had come to Roanapur with death in his eyes. "I promise."


End file.
